Unrequited
by Mamacita-san
Summary: James T. Kirk: the only man she wants, and the one man she can't have.


Everything was moving too quickly. The visitors were already making preparations to leave, and they had only just arrived. She was determined that He should not leave her behind.

Keenser was disappointed to learn that Kirk and Spock had not, as she and Scotty first thought, been sent to replace them at the outpost, but she had hoped they would remain there for at least a day or two. It was a relief to finally have someone around besides Scotty, who tended to consider Keenser as part of his punishment and therefore beneath his notice, and all but ignored her.

Because they had been on Delta Vega for several months now and it was amply clear that Scotty saw Keenser as an inconvenience, just one more thing to complain about. He ranted frequently about unreasonable, ungrateful admirals who didn't appreciate genius when they saw it; after all, he was relatively sure the Admiral's beagle would show up again. Someday. Somewhere. It had to—all the equations said so. The only difficulty was that Scotty didn't know when or where that might happen and so he was unable to produce said beagle, bluster and threaten as the Admiral may.

So here he was, stuck on this godforsaken ball of ice with an "assistant"—ha!—who could barely speak decipherable English. Scotty had no idea when the Admiral would see fit to release him from this purgatory and send some to relieve him. The thought of living on protein nibs (because even if they were capable of sustaining life, they were _not_ food, no matter what anyone said) for months—years, maybe, if the Admiral were to simply forget about him, and Scotty wouldn't put it past the blighter—well, it was more than a man could be expected to take lying down.

So he vented, and Keenser would roll her eyes and retreat to the furthest corner of the outpost, and if she was lucky Scotty wouldn't follow her; or if he did, needing someone to listen to him even if that someone was only a "worthless wee beastie," as he referred to Keenser in his surlier moments, she would make an unholy racket with her tools, clanking on pipes and tanks with her wrenches and busily pretending to work until he gave up in disgust and went back to the workshop. At least there it was marginally warmer.

Before Scotty had displayed his monumental lapse of judgement in using the Admiral's beagle as the subject of his teleportation experiment, he was not personally acquainted with Keenser, although both were enrolled in Starfleet's engineering program and were considered to be prodigies. She had her own social circle and Scotty had his, and it was basically a case of "ne'er the twain shall meet." Scotty knew nothing of Nekonn biology or physiology and was unaware that Keenser had, as of recent date, begun to suffer a unique kind of deprivation of her own here on Delta Vega.

Until recently she had been a biological male, proud to have been chosen by a respectable number of females to service them in their time of need. As happened with all but a few Nekonn, when she was in her twentieth year Keenser's biology underwent a mysterious change and she became female. Now she was not only female but fertile, and in want of a mate—in need of one, more precisely, or she would die. Nekonn females had a biological mandate to breed; if they did not do so within approximately one standard year of achieving fertility, they would weaken and die. It was generally supposed that this trait had evolved as a natural deterrent to overpopulation. Unfortunately, although their exposure to the far-flung worlds of the Federation had brought many medical advances to Nekonnl in the past hundred years, none of them had been able to alter this basic fact. The breeders lived on for roughly twenty years after breeding but then they, too, succumbed to the inevitable withering death. They could only breed once in a lifetime; the longer span common among breeders was just long enough to see their young to maturity.

Once Starfleet discovered Nekonnl, many aspects of Nekonn life had changed. Horizons were expanded and there was now regular trade between Nekonnl and other Federation planets. With increasing exposure to other life forms it inevitably occurred to the more curious among the Nekonn to wonder whether breeding with other species was possible, and whether it might allow the Nekonn life expectancy to increase. Before, it had been an accepted fact of Nekonn life: forty years of age was not considered too young to die, rather it was the time of dying. No one questioned the fact that many died as early as twenty; for the undesired and unmated, it was dutifully accepted. But with new ideas came a longing for more, for broader horizons and fewer limitations.

The old-school among the Nekonn were appalled at the very thought of breeding with Others for any reason. Things were what they were—they always had been, they always would be. Why seek to change that?

Nevertheless, experiments inevitably happened—first in secret, and then more openly as the Nekonn associated with other Federation worlds, sending the occasional favored ones among their young to Starfleet for training and from there to a life out among the stars. Although the more traditional Nekonn still did not approve of the intermixing of species (it had not been seen to improve the Nekonn lifespan by any appreciable margin, after all), they now knew such a thing was at least possible.

Keenser had hoped to return to Nekonnl before she was too far into her fertile time, but she was more than halfway through her year and had nearly resigned herself to dying here on the frozen wasteland that was Delta Vega unless Admiral Archer relented and sent someone to relieve them. It was a depressing thought. The only humanoid male on the entire planet was Montgomery Scott, and the idea of breeding with him was absurd, at best. On his best days he treated her like a pet; on his worst, a pest. An equal, never. An object of desire? Impossible! True, he was unaware of her sudden, recent gender change, or the fact that she would soon be in need of a mate. Quite honestly, Keenser doubted it would make a difference even if he did know. Scotty was so wrapped up in his own bitterness and misery that he had little thought to spare for anyone else's problems.

So when Kirk and Spock appeared that day out of the perpetual blizzard, Keenser was ecstatic simply because someone, _anyone_ else was there. Fascination with James Kirk quickly followed. True, he was human...but something about him attracted her very strongly. When Scotty snapped at Keenser to get off the teleportation platform and Kirk reached up with his trademark charming smile and lifted her down, she looked into those eyes, so thrillingly blue and unlike her own colorless black ones, and suddenly she knew. He wasn't Nekonn—he thought he was about to return to his ship and leave her there with Spock Prime—but _she_ _knew_.

He was the One. Her mate. She felt it. Everything in her trembled with the knowledge, and with an inward sigh of relief she knew she was saved, that she would not have to die a forlorn death on this frozen world, unwanted by any male.

As Spock prepared to beam Kirk and Scotty up to the _Enterprise_ his attention was on the controls before him, so he did not see Keenser scuttle around quickly to crouch behind Kirk. Thus when Kirk and Scotty transported, she did, too, landing just behind Kirk's feet. His attention, however, was immediately drawn to the sound of Scotty pounding frantically on the inside of the cooling tank and then shooting out into the conductor tube, so Keenser quietly ducked around the tank and watched from the shadows as Kirk rescued Scotty from nearly drowning. Shortly after that they were both marched off by a security detail for the confrontation with Spock, and Keenser followed quietly in their wake.

Some moments later, as a haunted-looking Spock headed to his quarters, Kirk commed the crew. "I want all departments at battle stations and ready in ten minutes. Either we're going down...or they are. Kirk out." He slapped his hand down on the switch and stared moodily ahead of him for a moment.

He glanced over at Scotty and his eyes widened as they were drawn downward to the diminutive figure standing timidly behind the engineer. "Keenser?" he said. "What on earth—how did you get here?"

Scotty, startled, looked down as well. "Keenser? Och!" He exclaimed sharply. "What're _you_ doin' here, ye wee maggoty beast? Yer supposed to stay behind, with—" He broke off suddenly, remembering Spock Prime's warning not to mention his presence on Delta Vega. "Er—ye were meant to stay behind. Captain," he said with an apologetic glance at Kirk, "you'll have to send him back."

"Her."

"What?" Scotty demanded impatiently.

"Send _her_ back," Keenser said in heavily accented but perfectly distinguishable English. "Keenser is female." And then, not wanting anyone to mistake her feelings in the matter, "And does not want to go back to Delta Vega."

"Fe—are ye, now?" Scotty stared at her quizzically for a moment. "I could have sworn—gah!" He shook his head irritably. "What the devil's _that_ got to do with anything, anyway?" he muttered.

Kirk stared bemusedly at the two of them. Finally he said, "So, Keenser—I don't think we ever heard what _you_ were doing on Delta Vega. By rights I ought to send you back there, you know. Starfleet doesn't look kindly on stowaways."

Round, deep-set black eyes met his unflinchingly. "Keenser is Starfleet engineer. Good engineer. Good as him." She flicked her eyes derisively in Scotty's direction and he snorted and glared at her. Kirk held up an admonishing hand, and the insult quivering on the tip of Scotty's tongue stayed there. For the moment.

"And?"

"Admiral Archer sent Keenser. To work with _him_." Again the almost negligent flick of her eyes toward Scotty, who seethed with repressed indignance. " _He_ is being punished. Keenser is not. Admiral Archer respects Keenser's work." She said it with a touch of smugness, and Scotty exploded, unable to stand it any longer.

"Archer sent him—her— _it_ , I don't know—to be a watchdog, keep an eye on me, didn't he?" he demanded, one finger pointed accusingly at Keenser, who stood there looking virtuous and blinking innocently.

Kirk hid a smile. Obviously there was no love lost between his new engineer and the Nekonn. "Tell you what," he said, thoughtfully stroking his upper lip. Keenser's eyes fastened on the hypnotic motion of that finger across those smooth lips. Humans had such interesting skin; it wasn't as highly textured as a Nekonn's, but it was tempting to touch it just to see if it could really be as smooth as it looked.

Oblivious to her fixation, Kirk continued, "Scotty, you report to Engineering. For starters, you can help repair any water damage on Level 3 from your—er—arrival. Then report to the transporter room; you'll be working with the team there to program the equations for warp-speed transporting into the computer."

Scotty nodded. "Might I just get a wee bite to eat first, Captain, d'you suppose? It's that long since I've had real food, an' all."

"Of course. And you—" Kirk beckoned to Keenser, who came warily to within an arm's length— "you, my friend, will report to the head of Engineering. If you're as good as you say, he may have a project for you to work on. For now, we need to find somewhere to put both of you—not together, I think, hmm?" Both Scotty and Keenser shook their heads emphatically and Kirk grinned. "See to it, will you, Lieutenant?"

The head of the security detail, who had taken obvious pleasure in dragging Kirk off for a scolding or worse from Spock just moments before, had no choice but to do as he was told, although his glare at Kirk promised retribution the very first moment an opportunity was offered.

Keenser trotted along beside him as the Lieutenant, oblivious to her much shorter stride, strode furiously along the passageway to another turbolift. He barely waited until Keenser cleared the door before he punched the button to take them down to Engineering. Keenser heard him mutter something about "a damn babysitter" but thought it wisest not to respond. She held onto the railing and waited the few seconds it took to reach their destination, then followed, puffing a little as by now she had to flat-out run to keep up with the Lieutenant.

In the days that followed, Kirk had the oddest sensation of being watched whenever he was in the public areas of the ship. Even odder was the fact that he could never catch anyone at it. He had to admit it was starting to make him a little paranoid.

"I don't know, Bones," he said, hunching his shoulders and darting furtive looks around the canteen during a late lunch one Tuesday. "It's the damnedest thing. Hell, sometimes I feel like I'm losing my mind."

Bones chuckled unsympathetically. "I highly doubt that, Jim." He glanced casually around the mostly empty room, his eyes resting a few tables away as he chewed. "Maybe you have a secret admirer." He let out something that was dangerously close to a giggle before he caught Kirk's eye and tried to cover it with a cough. "Now, there's no need to look at me like that. You could be imagining things. Why would anyone be st—" He broke off and stopped chewing, his mouth frozen in an open position, treating Kirk to the unwelcome sight of the half-masticated mashed potatoes and green beans within. "Well, I'll be," Bones said, the tone of intrigue in his voice clear even muffled by food.

Hearing it, Kirk sat up straighter and turned his head to look at the only other occupied table, where Uhura and M'Benga were sitting with the Nekonn who had arrived with Scotty—what was his name? No, _her_ name, he remembered. Keenser. None of them were looking his way but seemed engrossed in their conversation. Uhura was talking animatedly and making sweeping gestures with her fork, swinging her crossed leg back and forth. M'Benga was nodding appreciatively and laughing now and then. And Keenser was looking from one to the other of them, her short legs dangling from the canteen chair that was too high for her.

"What?" Kirk asked. "What is it?" There was no one sitting at the other tables or waiting at the replicator stations, and the threesome across the room weren't doing anything of note.

Bones finished chewing and swallowed. He looked back at Kirk with a half-grin. "You're kidding, right?" Kirk shook his head. "Okay. But you've got to be subtle, Jim. You can't just stare right at her." He shook his head in mock scolding.

"Subtle. Right." Kirk casually took a bite of his apple, then whipped his head around to look at Uhura again. She was still talking and waving her fork, not even appearing to notice him.

Bones rolled his eyes. "Oh, _that_ was good. Real subtle. Do you even know the meaning of the word, Jim?"

Kirk glowered at the apple. "Fine. So why don't you just tell me who it is, then? Since you're such a master at this sort of thing. And you can stop laughing. This is really driving me nuts, Bones."

Bones shook his head, still smiling. "Oh, all right, you big baby. Now, look. I'm going to give a big stretch in a second here. As soon as I do, you look over there again. I'm not sure how long I can distract her. But this time _be subtle_. If you stare right at her like you just were, you're being way too obvious."

Kirk muttered, "Obvious. I'm obvious?" Then he sighed and said quietly, "Okay, whenever you're ready."

Bones put down his fork and patted his stomach. "Boy, that was almost like my momma used to make," he said loudly, and he gave an enormous, contented stretch, raising his arms so a strip of muscled abs peeked out from beneath the hem of his uniform shirt. "Ahhh! Could do with a nap after that."

As soon as Bones stretched his arms up, Kirk's eyes (not his whole head this time; he _knew_ how to be subtle, dammit) slid over to Uhura. She was still oblivious to his gaze, but he did notice Keenser staring at him. It was only a fleeting glance, though, and then she looked away and said something to M'Benga, so it was hard to tell whether she'd really been looking at Kirk or had just happened to glance in his general direction.

"You see?" Bones whispered. Startled, Kirk jerked his eyes back to his friend.

"What?"

"Did it work?" Bones asked. "Did you see her staring at you?"

"Uhura? No," Kirk said. "It can't be her, she's been talking to M'Benga the whole time. She's not even looking over here."

Bones threw his hands up in the air. "I swear, Jim, you couldn't be more blind if someone poked out both your eyes," he said disgustedly.

"What the _hell_ are you talking about?" Kirk hissed furiously. "I tell you, I've been feeling someone staring at me—a _lot_ —and there's no one else in here. If it's not Uhura, then who the hell is it? I hope you're not going to try to tell me it's M'Benga." He gave Bones a sarcastic look and folded his arms across his chest.

"No, you idiot. What's the matter, can't you count? There are three people sitting at that table, Jim. _Three_." He stared at Kirk as if willing him to see it.

"Thr—" All of a sudden Kirk's mouth dropped open in a comical expression of shock and he stared at Bones as if his friend had just slapped him. "You—you mean..." He trailed off weakly and turned his head very slightly, trying not to make it obvious that he was staring at Keenser. Who was—

Gone. Uhura and M'Benga were getting up to leave, and Keenser had apparently beaten them out the door as she was nowhere to be seen. Kirk's gaze swung back to Bones. "Ha ha, very funny," he said grumpily. "Make fun of the paranoid man."

Bones was laughing helplessly. "No, Jim, I swear," he insisted. "She was staring at you then. Actually, now that I think of it," he said with an air of one who has experienced a significant revelation, "she's always staring at you. She always turns up wherever you are, have you noticed that?" Kirk made a face and opened his mouth to say something, but Bones rolled right over the top of him. "No, really," he said, warming to the subject. "You're in the canteen—she's always sitting somewhere she can see you. You're on the bridge—she just happens to come up to fix something. Or, surprise, she's helping Scotty in the transporter room when you come back from an away mission. I'm not imagining it, Jim. I'm really not."

Kirk stared at him with an inscrutable expression for a moment. Then he said, "Well...it's kind of weird. What do you think it means?"

"Means? Jim, the girl has a crush on you a mile wide!" Bones exclaimed. "What do you _think_ it means when somebody's always making sure they're right where you are, where they can see you all the time, have some contact, maybe talk to you a little? I mean, all right, it's usually somebody who looks a little more—you know—" he made a gesture indicating a womanly shape— "human-looking, I guess, but still, she _is_ female, Jim. I'll be damned." He laughed. "The heartbreak that is James T. Kirk knows no boundary of species, it seems. They all fall for those fresh-faced good looks."

Kirk did not appear measurably entertained by this observation. "Well, it's just—it's just ridiculous, is what it is," he sputtered. Bones just grinned. "Don't just sit there amusing yourself, Bones. Help me out. What am I supposed to do about this?"

" _Do_ about it?" Bones echoed. "I don't know that you _can_ do anything about it, Jim. I mean, you kind of have to let her take the lead on this one, I think. It's obvious that she's having a hard time coming right out and letting you know she likes you. I don't think you need to _do_ anything, unless..." His eyes twinkled with mischief. "Unless you're interested, too, and you'd rather do the pursuing yourself. Of course, that's—Jim? Jim! Come on, come back," he called to Kirk's stiffly furious, rapidly retreating back.

After a moment Bones heaved a sigh. "Well, it's damn funny if you ask me," he said, and he reached for Kirk's chocolate pudding, which hadn't even been touched before Kirk stormed off in a swirl of injured dignity.

Just outside the canteen, Uhura bade M'Benga goodbye and paused to check her PADD, which had just emitted the low beep of an incoming message. The message was not of any interest to her—but the conversation between Bones and Kirk, which had grown rapidly louder, was. When she realized that Keenser was the subject of their argument, she gave up any pretense of not eavesdropping and listened shamelessly until she heard Kirk's chair scrape back. She had to duck quickly down a nearby corridor to avoid his seeing her when he walked out. Fortunately he turned left instead of right and had already disappeared around a bend in the corridor when she stuck her head back around the corner to check.

Uhura walked slowly in the opposite direction, thinking about what she'd heard. Now that Bones had pointed it out, she realized he was right: Keenser did seem to gravitate toward Kirk wherever he was. The Nekonn had an uncanny knack for knowing just where and when to find him. Kirk's dismay at this news didn't surprise Uhura much; she had always felt he was basically shallow. It did surprise her a little, however, to find that she was disappointed he'd proven her right.

She wondered if Bones was right and Keenser really did have a crush on Kirk. If so, the Nekonn probably had an unpleasant discovery coming. Uhura liked the diminutive engineer; she was extremely bright, friendly but rather shy, and had a fondness for practical jokes underlain by a sly sense of humor that Uhura decided must have come from spending so much time cooped up alone with Scotty.

The more Uhura thought about it, the more indignant she became at the idea of Keenser innocently coming up against an inevitable rejection from Kirk. It was a delicate situation, though. She couldn't just bring up the subject out of the blue. After all, Keenser herself had never mentioned it, and Uhura was sure the little engineer had her pride to consider. She worried at it in her mind over the next few days like a dog with a bone, wondering what she could do to bring the conversation around to Kirk and maybe draw Keenser out on the subject.

As it turned out, she didn't have to do anything at all. The problem, as it were, came to her.

It was nearly the end of gamma shift. Uhura was debating the merits of going to bed early against the self-indulgence of staying up nice and late, which she enjoyed doing but frequently regretted later, when it was time to get up and report for duty. While she mulled it over she sat on her bed, removing nail polish from her toenails. Suddenly the entrance chime sounded. "Come in," she called, hoping she wasn't going to be asked to work an extra shift. She had already changed into her sleeping clothes and was deliciously comfy and actually starting to feel kind of sleepy.

The door swooshed open and there stood Keenser, hovering uncertainly in the doorway. "Uhura is...busy?" she asked hesitantly.

"No, no," Uhura said. "Come in! I'm just doing my nails before bed."

Keenser walked over and peered down at Uhura's toes with great curiosity. "What is 'doing nails'?" she asked.

"Oh—well, I guess it's kind of a human thing," Uhura said. "I put polish on them to make them look pretty, and when it starts to chip I remove it and put on new polish."

Keenser looked as if she thought Uhura might be putting her on. "What is 'pretty'?" she wanted to know.

"Pretty is...attractive, nice to look at," Uhura explained. "Sometimes you add extra things, like nail polish, or jewelry if you want to take it a little further." She indicated the demure diamond studs in her ears, which seemed to interest Keenser greatly.

"Pretty is attractive...to males?"

Uhura grinned. "Yup. Well, sometimes a person likes to get all prettied up just because it makes her feel good, but yeah, I have to admit that quite often the reason is to make us more attractive to men."

Keenser started at Uhura, her head tilted to one side, obviously thinking hard. "Can Uhura make Keenser...pretty?"

Uhura's grin faltered just the tiniest bit, then she rallied, realizing that this was actually a promising turn for the conversation to take. "Um—yes! Sure! Let me see, now." She looked around her quarters for something, anything, that might work. Her eye lit on a splash of flame-colored silk draped over a chair. "I know! How about if we start with this?" She got up and went over to pick up the scarf, a birthday present from her sister, a much-married lady who of all people, Uhura thought with amusement, would approve its being given away for the purpose of helping someone attract a man.

"What is this?" Keenser asked. She sniffed the scarf delicately and made a small whuffing noise of approval. "Smells good."

Uhura smiled. "That's probably my perfume. I don't wear it very often because we work in such a confined space, but sometimes I put a little on for special occasions." Keenser stood patiently while Uhura drew the scarf around her neck and tied it in a loose knot at a jaunty angle. Then she turned Keenser and pointed toward the closet door. "There. Take a look and see what you think."

Keenser leaned over until she could see her reflection and gave a start and a little gasp. Excitedly she stalked over and stopped a few inches from the glass, unable to stop staring at herself. She fingered the scarf and tilted her head this way and that, making little crooning noises. "Keenser pretty?" she asked shyly.

Uhura chuckled. "Very! That color looks so nice with the, uh, green of your skin." She sat back down on her bed and began to apply polish to the toes on her left foot, and Keenser stopped playing with the scarf and watched intently, finally trotting back over to crouch down and get a closer look. She jerked her head sharply when she caught a whiff of the polish.

"I know," Uhura said sympathetically. "They can colonize space but they can't make a nail polish that doesn't stink." She continued to apply the polish in short, even strokes, Keenser nodding in time with each stroke. When she was done, Uhura looked up. "Would you like me to do your nails?" Keenser looked down at her chubby hands, which barely had nails at all, and shrugged, seeming rather doubtful about the whole thing. "You know," Uhura said, "I may have some polish the same color as that scarf." She rummaged in a plastic box on the floor of her closet until she found what she wanted and then walked carefully back to the bed, taking exaggerated steps with her left foot so as not to smear the polish. Keenser noted this with interest and eyed the small bottle in Uhura's hand with some anticipation.

At Uhura's urging, Keenser drew a chair over to the bed and sat down, spreading her short, blunt fingers on her knees. Uhura shoook the polish and opened it; Keenser made a face at the acrid smell, but watched intently as Uhura carefully brushed polish onto the abbreviated, almost vestigial nails.

"Now, blow on them a little to help them dry," she said as she finished the first hand. Keenser obediently blew on her wet nails, keeping a close eye on the proceedings as Uhura continued with the other hand. "There!" Uhura announced. She straightened up and screwed the top back onto the little bottle. "What do you think?"

Keenser blew dutifully on the second hand and then held both hands out in front of her, eyeing them critically as she turned them this way and that. She looked at Uhura, and even though it was difficult to tell what she was feeling from her facial expression, since her face wasn't as flexible as a human's, it was obvious that she was doing the Nekonn equivalent of beaming.

"Pretty," she breathed. She held one hand up next to the scarf and nodded, bouncing a little bit on the chair with excitement. "Uhura made Keenser pretty!"

Uhura nodded. "Very pretty," she agreed. She decided to seize the moment—there might not be a better one. "So, Keenser, have you got your eye on a particular guy? You know, to flash all this 'pretty' at?" When Keenser only looked at her quizzically, Uhura clarified. "A guy, a man—is this for someone special?" She indicated the scarf and Keenser's fingers.

"Ah. Special...yes. Is for the One. Keenser's...special...One?"

"Ooo, a special someone, huh?" Uhura said encouragingly. "You've got me curious now. Mind if I ask who he is?"

Keenser regarded her soberly for a moment, then said, "Kirk is the One."

Something about the way she said it made it clear that this was important—that there was something more than a mere romantic crush going on—and Uhura's brow creased. "You mean," she said, choosing her words carefully, "he's the one you like? The one you want to be pretty for?" She smiled tentatively and tugged teasingly on the end of the scarf.

"Kirk is the One," Keenser repeated. "The One. Keenser's mate. Keenser must mate with Kirk."

Uhura's eyebrows flew up, nearly rivaling Spock's in their ability to express emotion. "You—you want to... _mate_...with Captain Kirk?" she repeated slowly.

" _Must_ mate," Keenser corrected. "Keenser _must_ mate. Time grows short." She nodded solemnly.

"What do you mean?" Uhura asked, puzzled. "What time?" Keenser seemed so serious and unshakeable in her apparent belief that she had to mate with Kirk. Which, Uhura thought with a sinking feeling, was something that would never happen if Kirk had anything to say about it. And she thought he would have rather a lot to say about it if he ever heard about this.

"Nekonn have mating time," Keenser said, her gaze fixed on something only she could see. "One year. Not much time left. Kirk is the One."

"But—don't you need to mate with another Nekonn?" Uhura asked, momentarily diverted by this thought. "And I still don't get the time thing. What if you don't mate in a year? I mean, humans have a fairly long period—many years—when they can mate. And if they don't—" she shrugged— "they they just don't have children. Is there some law that you have to mate, or something?"

"Not law," Keenser said. "One year passes with no mate, the withering death takes us. Mate, have young, perhaps live one span longer."

"The withering death?"

"It is how Nekonn die. Things inside—" she motioned to her torso— "wither and...stop. But the mind does not wither. The dying is...most difficult."

Uhura stared at her in dismay. "I'll just bet it is." Keenser had to mate within a year of coming of age or she would die? "Unbelievable!" she muttered. "So when did you become—you know, of age? When did you start to need a mate?"

"Before Delta Vega," Keenser said, and she nodded when Uhura's eyes widened in comprehension.

"And how much time do you have left?" Uhura whispered.

"Perhaps one week."

A week. One short week—to accomplish what could not be accomplished. Because Uhura was sure it could not be done. Kirk was a born ladies' man, yes, but his interest was in _human_ ladies—or humanoid, at least. She thought of his reaction to Bones' teasing in the canteen that day and her heart sank even further.

But what could she possibly do? Keenser seemed to be in no doubt that Kirk was who she wanted. Uhura couldn't imagine any way to explain to her the probable outcome of her propositioning Kirk, not without sounding mean at best, and racist at worst. Mired in uncertainty, she waited too long to speak.

Keenser got up and bowed to Uhura. "Keenser thanks Uhura," she said formally, and she turned toward the door. "Keenser will find Kirk now." She exited Uhura's quarters with a bounce in her step, the scarf trailing jauntily over one shoulder.

Oh, she would find him, no doubt, Uhura thought darkly—cozied up with some crew member, no doubt. Suddenly it was too much. She knew she should have said something, anything—that Kirk preferred men, perhaps, or that he'd taken a vow of celibacy. No, she'd never be able to keep a straight face if she tried that one on; and Keenser had been on the ship for weeks now, and she was neither blind nor stupid.

Still, Uhura couldn't just let Keenser go off, all alone and without anyone having her back, to be insulted by Kirk. She ripped off her sleeping clothes and re-dressed in her uniform, shoving her feet into her shoes without regard for wet nail polish. She raced out the door and down the corridor toward Kirk's quarters, arriving just in time to catch a glimpse of fluttery orange scarf as his door swooshed closed.

She hovered outside the door for a moment, then realized it would look extremely odd to anyone passing by since she had absolutely no reason to be there. So she retreated down the corridor about thirty feet to a comm panel—far enough away that she could be there for some innocent purpose, but not so far around the corridor's bend that Kirk's door was out of her line of sight. The comm panel was handily placed so she could pretend to be using it if anyone walked by.

But ten minutes passed and Kirk's door remained firmly closed. Uhura got up the nerve to walk past it once—and then a second time, since the area seemed to be safely deserted—but she could hear no sounds from within. Surely it couldn't take ten minutes for Kirk to break Keenser's heart, she thought nastily. After all, McCoy had warned him that Keenser had her eye on him. Uhura would have given a month's pay to see Kirk's face when Keenser told him why she was there.

Which started her thinking about the possible consequences of his rejection. She wondered if Keenser would tell Kirk everything: that if he refused her, she would die soon because she had to mate, and she didn't want anyone else. It was hard to imagine even Kirk turning her down under those circumstances, but somehow Uhura doubted Keenser would mention it. At times Kirk could be positively noble, but in light of his reaction to McCoy's teasing, Uhura couldn't see him accommodating Keenser's request even if he did know how dire the situation was. He'd probably rush her off to Sickbay to see whether McCoy could come up with a solution that didn't involve Kirk having sex with something that wasn't a humanoid female—preferably blonde, stacked, and sultry.

Suddenly Kirk's door swooshed open and Keenser walked out. She stood outside the door for a moment after it closed, and it appeared to Uhura that she was swaying on her feet a little. Uhura's heart clenched in sympathy, and she hovered indecisively between going to Keenser and staying put so as not to embarrass the Nekonn by intruding on this obviously difficult moment.

Whether for better or worse, she chose discretion.

Keenser turned and walked slowly away from Uhura along the curving corridors, appearing not to notice her silent follower. When she took the turning toward the observation deck, Uhura stopped and sighed. Probably best to leave her for now; Keenser never showed a great deal of emotion—or possibly it was just difficult for a human to read it—but even so, surely she would want some time alone to contemplate her approaching end without the distraction of questions from Uhura, as good as her intentions were.

Uhura went back to her quarters, seething with frustration at the injustice of it all. She would have liked to have a word with Kirk at that moment; she was more disappointed in him than she could ever remember being—and that was saying something. But that wouldn't accomplish anything. She sighed. Kirk was what he was.

She would find Keenser during the next shift and see if she couldn't talk some sense into her. After all, there were more than four hundred people aboard the _Enterprise_ , roughly half of them male, probably many of whom Keenser didn't even know. Surely among that many there must be one who would do just as well as Kirk, if Keenser could only find him in the time she had left. Uhura had an uneasy moment when she remembered the faraway look on Keenser's face when she'd said Kirk was "the One," but she ruthlessly squashed the memory and determined that she would help Keenser find a mate elsewhere on the ship. Sure, Keenser was probably pretty disappointed in Kirk herself, but she knew the danger of procrastinating; she wouldn't willingly just lie down and die because she couldn't have one particular man, would she? Ridiculous, of course she wouldn't!

Uhura fell asleep with a steady stream of men's faces running through her mind, considering and discarding potential mates for Keenser among them.

She woke abruptly about three hours later to the sound of alarms going off. "Computer, lights to fifty percent," she mumbled. Blearily she made her way to the door and stuck her head out to see a few people hurrying down the corridor toward the docking bays. A familiar face stood out among them: Scotty, who had obviously woken and dressed in a hurry. Uhura reached out to stop him. "Scotty! What's going on?" she asked.

"It's one of the airlocks," he panted, slowing as he approached her. "It's been opened—unauthorized—they think some bloody fool's gone out an airlock, can you believe it?" He shook his head and trotted on.

"Gone—what kind of idiot would do that?" Uhura sputtered. But even as she said it, she knew. Not an idiot, no. Just someone desperate to snatch a little more life than the paltry few years she'd been given—and if she couldn't, then making sure she died on her own terms. Not for Keenser the gradual withering away to nothing while she lay on a biobed, fully cognizant of what was happening to her and totally helpless to stop it.

"Oh, no," she moaned, and heedless of her attire she raced after Scotty, needing to know for sure.

A sizeable crowd had gathered by the time they reached the docking bay. A small security detail was keeping order and not allowing anyone into the bay. Uhura pushed her way to the front, her stomach doing flip-flops as she waited to hear the worst.

Spock came out of shuttle bay five, his expression even more closed than usual. In his hand was a familiar piece of orange silk. "This is all I found, Captain," he said as he handed it to Kirk.

Uhura's hand flew to her mouth and she gave a choked sob. Kirk's eyes met hers and held them for a moment, his expression disbelieving. Uhura dropped her face into her hands and her shoulders shook as she sobbed silently. After a moment Kirk looked back at Spock. "I want the ship searched immediately," he said. "Top to bottom. If Keenser is aboard I want her found, _now_." Spock nodded. He motioned to the security detail and they followed him briskly out of the docking bay.

Looking grim, Kirk walked over to the entrance. "I want you people to return to your duties or your quarters. I don't want anyone hanging around here gawking." He gave the onlookers his fiercest glare and they dispersed rapidly.

Kirk put a hand on Uhura's arm. "You come with me," he said, and he led her back to his quarters. She barely registered the trip or Kirk making her sit down on the comfortable sofa in his spacious quarters. He busied himself at his small bar for a moment and returned with a glass that he pushed into her hand. She looked at it dully, hiccupping, with tears in her eyes. "It's brandy," Kirk said. "Real Terran brandy. Drink it—it'll calm you down a bit."

He waited until she had taken a couple of sips and then sat down in a chair across from her and held out the flame-colored scarf. When Uhura saw it, tears welled up before she could stop them and she began to weep again.

Kirk stared at her for a moment, then said accusingly, "I take it you know something about this?"

Uhura's eyes lifted to his. "It's—well, it was mine, but I gave it to Keenser. She wanted to—to make herself p-pretty, for—" She broke off and shook her head, unable to say more, and took a large gulp of brandy.

"For me."

Uhura nodded, feeling a growing anger that was partly fueled by the brandy. "Yes, you bastard, for you! And you couldn't even bring yourself to help her out, could you?" She gave him a contemptuous look.

Kirk was somewhat taken aback by her ferocity, not to mention the "bastard" comment. "Help her out? What do you—" He reddened. "What, you mean me refusing to sleep with her? Damn right I refused." Uhura's mouth dropped open in indignation, and Kirk quickly followed up with, "Well, hell, how would it look? She's nowhere near me in rank!"

"Oh, and that's the only reason you wouldn't sleep with her, I suppose!" Uhura spat. "It has nothing to do with the fact that she's not humanoid and built out to here!" She motioned about eight inches out from her chest.

Kirk glared at her. "Really, you really think I'm that shallow? Well, good to know, I guess. Thanks, Uhura. Thanks a lot." He fell silent, fidgeting with the arm of the chair and staring morosely at his feet. Uhura glared at him, angry that he'd made her feel like she was accusing him wrongly.

A few moments later Kirk muttered sullenly, "I don't know why you think it would have _helped_ her if I'd slept with her, anyway."

Uhura stared at him. "She didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what, for God's sake?" Kirk's eyes rose to Uhura's and he frowned at the dawning realization on her face. "What is it?"

Uhura shook her head. "I can't believe she didn't tell you how urgent it was."

"That she sleep with me? Riiight," Kirk drawled, but Uhura held up a hand.

"Yes—or at least that she sleep with _someone_ , and she chose you."

Now Kirk looked puzzled and a little exasperated. "What are you talking about?"

"She needed to mate, Jim. It didn't have to be with someone of her own species, she just—she has to mate within a year of coming of age, or she'll die." Kirk still looked skeptical. "No, really. It's their way. They don't live very long, only about twenty years—except the ones who become breeders. When that happens, and it doesn't happen to all of them, they change gender, but they only live for about another year unless they find someone to mate with. The change happened to Keenser just before she and Scotty were sent to Delta Vega, and they were there for several months before you showed up. By the time she got to _Enterprise_ , well...she was desperate."

Kirk looked offended. "I beg your pardon? She was _desperate_ so she came to me as, what, a last resort?"

Uhura's glare returned. "Oh, come on, Jim—you can't have it both ways. Damn it, she _liked_ you. A lot. And she asked you to help her out. It's not like we were just going to run her back to Nekonnl any time soon so she could find a mate there. But you used that fraternization excuse to fob her off, didn't you? And now—she's—" Her eyes welled up and she buried her face in her hands.

Kirk sat there, stunned. "I had no idea," he said softly. "Uhura—she didn't tell me any of this." Uhura gave a hefty sniff and sent him a skeptical look. "No—none of it, I swear. I mean, I still don't think I could have slept with her—damn it, Uhura," he protested when she started glaring through her tears again. "There _is_ a regulation against fraternization and you know it. As Captain, I'd be skating on thin ice even sleeping with my first officer—even if it was someone other than Spock, that is. And someone as far down the line as Keenser?" He shook his head. "There's just no way that would fly, and you know it."

Uhura sniffled. "Well. Maybe you're right. But, I don't know—you could have helped her find someone or something, couldn't you? Jim, I saw her when she came out of your room. She just looked _flattened_. I think you truly broke her heart."

He threw his hands up in a gesture of resignation. "I'm sorry. For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I had no idea about any of this. She beat around the bush a little but finally came out and said she would be honored to mate with me. When I finally figured out what she wanted, I explained why it wasn't possible. She didn't push it. She just bowed and thanked me— _thanked_ me!—and left. How the hell was I to know her life depended on it? I mean, come on, Uhura—how was I to know?"

Uhura stared at him sadly. "I guess you couldn't," she finally admitted in a low voice. "I didn't know exactly what she would say, but I thought she would explain so you wouldn't just think she was flirting with you. Oh..." She gave a watery sigh and swiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands. "What a mess. Poor Keenser. I feel so bad."

" _You_ feel bad? Man, I can't believe she didn't tell me any of this," Kirk snapped, his sorrow and guilt expressing itself as anger. "We could have done something, figured something out. Why on earth would she throw herself out of an airlock over this?"

"She didn't want anyone but you," Uhura said. "And she didn't want to die that way." At Kirk's inquiring look she said, "They just sort of wither away, was how she put it. It doesn't take long but it's very painful and they retain full mental capacity while it's happening to them. I can't blame her a bit for not wanting to suffer that, but still...I wish she had let us help her." They were silent for a moment, immersed in regret.

Finally Kirk stirred. "I suppose I'd better write up the report." His expression was grim. "Admiral Archer should have known about all this before he sent her off to Delta Vega with Scotty, dammit. It didn't have to happen this way at all."

"I get the impression this particular aspect of the Nekonn culture isn't widely known," Uhura said. "I don't know why Keenser didn't tell anyone until it was almost too late. If they're going to be part of the Federation, it's a pretty important thing to know."

"Believe me," Kirk assured her, "it will be right up there in my report. Since you know more about it than I do, I'd like you to read the report before I send it off, check the details against what you know."

Uhura nodded and stood up. "Of course, Captain. I'd be glad to." She nodded briefly and headed for the door.

"Uhura." She turned just as the door swooshed open. "I'm truly sorry I didn't know," Kirk said. "I...I just don't know what else to say."

Uhura looked at him. "I know. Me neither." She sighed. "I think the only thing we can do, really, is make sure it doesn't happen again with some other Nekonn." She gave him a tremulous smile and walked out the door.

Twenty-four hours later Kirk gathered the crew on the observation deck and held a memorial service for Keenser. It was short and poignant and he didn't spare himself when he explained the reason for her suicide. It was obvious that no one blamed him, and the entire crew regretted that they hadn't known of her problem.

Scotty was inconsolable. "I never even knew the wee beastie was female," he kept saying. "She should ha' told me. We'd all that time together with nothing to do, I'd ha' helped if I'd known, truly. All the bickering, it was just something to pass the time, that's all."

Similar comments were expressed by various members of the engineering crew, who had spent the most time working with Keenser. The little Nekonn's cheerful attitude and propensity for jokes had made her well liked among them.

Kirk finally motioned for quiet. "I know all of you would have helped if you had been asked," he said. "All of _us_ —myself included. The very sad fact is that we did not know enough, and until now none of us—" his eyes flicked right, and Spock's mouth tightened almost imperceptibly— "knew enough about the Nekonn culture to know what was about to happen to Keenser. Well, we know now—and we won't let it happen again. Let us see Keenser's death as a lesson, so that if any of you find you have a serious problem on your hands, please— _please_ —tell someone about it. You have an entire starship full of shipmates. We're all in this together."

He halted, uncertain whether he'd said too much, been too sappy or trite, and decided to leave well enough alone. "Dismissed," he said at last. The crew made their way out of the observation deck, the atmosphere hushed and subdued.

Knowing that they were off to begin the next shift and would shortly be busy with work, Kirk waited until only a handful remained and then made his way to the railing. No one else was there and he leaned against it, watching the stars that amply peppered the Metronus system slip past in a dazzling array and thinking of Keenser.

After a bit he sensed that he was no longer alone. He turned his head slightly and acknowledged Spock, who stood a few feet behind him. "Magnificent, isn't it?" he said, nodding toward the view.

"Indeed," Spock said, moving to stand beside Kirk at the railing. "Captain, I feel I have been remiss in my duties by failing to study the Nekonn culture sufficiently. I should have recognized Keenser's dilemma. If you—"

"Spock," Kirk interrupted.

"Yes, Captain?"

"It's not your fault," Kirk said softly. "You've had a lot on your plate in the last few months, getting those surveys done for Starfleet. There are only so many hours in a day—and even you have to sleep for some of them." One corner of his mouth tipped up wryly.

"As you say, Captain." Spock was silent for a moment. "I will not engage in useless self-recrimination, I assure you." Still he seemed unconvinced, at least as far as Kirk could tell.

Suddenly Uhura was there. She stepped up between them and twined her arms through theirs. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"She's out there somewhere," Kirk said. Spock's lips twitched but he stared straight ahead and said nothing.

"Yes, she is," Uhura returned. "She's out there now, a part of all that beauty." She hugged their arms to her and the three of them moved in closer to each other, Spock reluctantly at first, but Uhura would have none of that and hugged him to her even more tightly.

The pure light of a million stairs bathed their faces in innocence as they said goodbye.


End file.
